Schrödinger's Coffin

There is a so called "Magical Trick" that was popular some time ago, until too many people failed at it, that consisted of being buried alive and then miraculously appearing from offstage as if you had magicked yourself out of it somehow. There were, of course, variations as to the actual affects of the trick, but usually it did, in fact, require being nailed into a coffin and being buried alive. How one got out of it usually entailed the construction of the coffin including trap-doors, safety passages in the dirt, smoke and mirrors, etc.

The point I'd like to draw your attention to, however, is not the trick itself, but what is going on during it. Look at the audience. Place yourself in their position. Now, look to the stage, at the place where the "Magician" was buried. Is he still in there, or has he escaped? Is he alive, or is he dead? According to a popular theory involving cats, boxes, and questionable use of radioactive substances, the answer is "Yes". Yes, to what? Yes, to all. The Magician is still buried. The Magician has already escaped. The Magician is dead. The Magician is alive.

Yes. At least, until someone checks. Then the possibilities disappear and are replaced by a singular reality. The "What If?" becomes "What Is:". The waveform collapses, only leaving behind the certainty of what has actually happened, regardless of the infinite possibilities that existed picoseconds ago...

Now, back to the matter at hand.

A similar situation has occurred. A man has stepped into a chamber. A box. Not dissimilar to a coffin, for it will certainly be where he is buried. Furthermore, something has happened inside this box. We do not know what. We simply know that it is a conclusion, based upon a fact. From an observation point of outside this box, we have no way of knowing what this conclusion, and subsequent decision, is. So, in effect, it is all of them; Every possible one. And there is no way to get inside, to look, and define reality. The moment remains undefined. Timelines a being born, sprouting forth from this seed like new-born life.

This does not please Madame Butterfly.

Not one bit.